


Do You Want Me (Dead)?

by IzayaRomati



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Assault, Curiosity killed the cat, Denial, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Multiple Personalities, Other, Playful teasing, Slow Burn, So much angst, Torture, budding friendships, effects of trauma, independant woman, messages written in blood, typical criminal minds stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27734194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzayaRomati/pseuds/IzayaRomati
Summary: Known as Chameleon in most circles, a highly regarded bounty hunter is recruited into the BAU under duress. Her skill set had been sought after by many agencies in the 5 years she'd been active, but none could keep her interest. So what does the FBI have on her that no one else knows? And how will the BAU react to her skill set. It's hard to profile someone who can change their behaviours and personality as easy as flipping a light switch.Spencer Reid feels like he's up to the challenge, but has no idea how to react when the woman he talked to one day becomes an entirely different person the next day.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	1. Chameleon

**Author's Note:**

> So first time posting anything on here. Please let me know if I missed or forgot anything and such.
> 
> Been super invested in Criminal Minds lately, started season two only recently so I'm still a wee baby when it comes to the characters. Some of them might be a little OOC.

Chameleon sauntered through the doors of the New Jersey police station, twirling her keys around her index finger with a triumphant smirk shadowing her lips. Having completed jobs for this particular station multiple times, she was well known by those who worked there. So when she noticed a man who looked wildly out of place sitting outside the Captains Office, her curiosity was piqued. She didn’t do anything to draw his attention but noted the holstered gun at his hip, assuming that he wasn’t a police offer, her curiosity faded away. She didn’t want to know why anyone other than a cop was in the building. Walking past the front desk with a curt wave, she held her composure while walking up to the Captain’s Office, not bothering to knock before walking in. 

“Chameleon, good to see you. Still in one piece I see.” Captain Rowell’s voice seemed natural enough, but Chameleon had known him too long, noting the slight strain in his demeanor, the man was nervous. Most notable to her was that he usually stood up to greet his favourite bounty hunter, so Chameleon built up her defences, a sour taste in her mouth as she noted the two men in the office with Rowell. “Please, help yourself to a seat. These two fine gentlemen would like to have a chat with you. A business proposal if you will.”

Rowell’s face fell as he saw the obvious distaste in Chameleon’s expression. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he noted the rising irritation in her body language. While the two often had pleasant interactions during target hand-offs, he had seen Chameleon lose her temper on a few occasions; something he decided he never wanted to be on the receiving end of. 

“The suits can wait Rowell. Got your latest target all tied up with a bow in the back seat of my car. So I won’t be entertaining anyone else wants until I get my payment.” She stood there, inspecting her nails beds. To anyone else, she seemed indifferent, but Rowell knew better; she was seething, but not yet explosive. “The sooner that bastard is out of my car, the better. Damn idiot already bled all over my back seats. I told him to comply, but you know how they get. Guess I’ll be back.”

What that, Chameleon left the room, leaving a stunned silence in her wake and a slack-jawed Captain to entertain the two men until she decided she wanted to return. She called for two of the rookie officers to help her collect her most recent contract from her car. When she told the Captain she’d tied him up with a bow, she wasn’t kidding. He sat in the back seat with a literals bow tied around his head; a stark contrast to the rage evident in his features. The man was wanted for a growing list of murders and assaults in the area. Local police had given up on arresting him, never catching up to him in time to make any progress. So they put a bounty on his head. Captain Rowell had called Chameleon almost as soon as the notice had gone out, letting her know about the new target and healthy sum for his capture. 

There was a reason Chameleon had been his first call. In the three years she had been in the bounty hunting business, she had a practically perfect record. Not one gunshot on the targets, a few of them sliced up a bit, but nothing more than necessary. Her true identity remained an elusive secret, always taking cash payments for completed contracts. The moniker ‘Chameleon’ had been given to her for the way she blended in and became whatever person she needed to be to catch her prey. Aiding in her success was her ability to get into their heads with the information provided in each brief and her exceptional combat skills; some had heard she was an expert marksman but had never seen her so much as carry a gun. 

Walking back into the Captains Office after another ten minutes, envelope of cash in hand, Chameleon got the impression that she had just interrupted the three men as they were talking about her. Not bothering to look at the two men across from the Captain, she rested her glare on the slowly unravelling Captain. She knew he didn’t do well under pressure without a backup plan and her gaze only made him more uncomfortable. Clearing his throat, he glanced at Chameleon before turning his focus back to the men in front of him, silently telling them they had the stage. 

“Chameleon is certainly an…interesting moniker,” it was the older one who spoke first, his voice near monotonous, giving way to no emotion, “I assume there is an equally interesting story behind it. Not to mention it’s a far cry from your given name, El-“

Before he could finish the words, Chameleon shot him a burning glare, her body language giving away her fury.

“Out. Now. Your office is mine until further notice, Rowell.” She seethed, a dark look building behind her eyes. The Captain very quickly excused himself, not needing to be told twice. Chameleon sat down in his chair, waiting to hear the Captains fading footsteps on the other side of the door. With a withering glare, she met the two men head on; sighing as she realised her life was about to be uprooted by some extension of the government.

“First, never use that name. That woman is dead,” Chameleon could feel the back rage that bubbled beneath her skin, taking a few stabilising breaths before forcing the rage back into the depths of her soul,” Second, you best cut to the chase and tell me, concisely, what it is you want from me.” 

Silence fills the space as the two men consider their words. Chameleon occupied herself with studying the two men in front of her. She started with the older man, noting his stoic temperament, dark brown hair, matching eyes and prominent brow ridge. He held himself with an air of seriousness, giving her the impression that, maybe in another life, he’d been involved in the court system, most likely a lawyer. Looking at the second man, she noted his lack of hair and chocolate brown complexion, he looked like he’d been a cop for some time, maybe following in a parents footsteps. A glance between the two told her they were extremely comfortable together, likely having worked together for a number of years. 

“My name is Aaron Hotchner, Supervisory Special Agent with the FBI, this here is SSA Derek Morgan. I’ve been told to bring you onto my team at the FBI. They’ve given me this to hand over as some form of explanation.” He slides a slim document envelope across the desk, giving Chameleon time to read over it. Printed on a the envelop was her moniker and below it, in large lettering, was the word ‘Confidential’. As she opens the envelope, the two Agents watch as a sour look takes over her face the longer she reads the papers, her jaw clenching almost imperceptibly. 

With a forlorn sigh, Chameleon looks up at the two Agents. Before they could speak though, her face went entirely blank, her eyes closed. Her expression relaxing completely from the irritation that they could see moments ago. There was no way they could account for what they witnessed next.

When Chameleon opened her eyes again it was like she was an entirely different person. Morgan and Hotchner recognised it as a symptom of Dissociative Identity Disorder, the abrupt but complete change in personality. As she stretched her arms in front of her, fingers interlocked, they noticed just how different she was. The way she held herself, the look in her eye, all of her body language was the opposite to what they had just seen. 

“Alright, boys, before you go thinking I’m textbook, DID, let me preface the rest of this discussion with the fact that your bosses are a bunch of dicks and they asked for the ‘change’.” In contrast to the venom lacing her words moments before, she now spoke with a soft lilt. “Apparently they want a woman who is, and I quote, ‘friendly, approachable, sweet and academic’. Cassie Conway suits that description. Why else do you think they call me Chameleon.”

“How did you do that?” Morgan managed to breathe out, thoroughly impressed. He was a highly skilled profiler who had seen a lot and still nothing compared to what he just witnessed. Chameleon was the same person, had the same state of mind but was just…entirely different. A very small part of him was interested to see how the rest of the Behavioural Analysis Unit would react to the woman. 

“I had good training.” She shrugged, not caring to elaborate more than that. The vague answer somewhat annoying, but with a quick glance at Hotchner, he decided it was best not to push it. 

“So, you’ll be joining the Behavioural Analysis Unit then?” Hotchner was stoic, but Morgan could see the interest he had taken in Chameleon’s skill.  
A melodic hmm was her only response as she packed the papers back in the envelope. A knocked at the door captured everyone’s attention. Chameleon opened the door for him, giving him a brief curtsy as she said goodbye to him.

“Guess I’ll have to find a new favourite bounty hunter then. You boys best take good care of that lass.” The Captains voice was stern but Hotchner and Morgan could hear the care he held for Chameleon in his words. 

On her way out, Chameleon stopped in front of the man she noticed earlier, holding her hand out to him. As he looked up, she noticed his tawny brown eyes had so much light behind them. She guessed that the job hadn’t truly gotten to him yet. 

“You must be Doctor Spencer Reid, call me Cassie, I’ll be joining your team starting tomorrow.” The smile the bloomed on her lips surprised him. He had been hyper focusing on a case file and hadn’t noticed her stop in front of him.

“Oh I, uh, I don’t shake hands. The n-number of pathogens passed during a h-handshake is staggering.” His voice is smooth despite the stammer as his eyes flit anywhere but Chameleon’s face, his tongue poking out to wet his lips, “It’s actually safer to kiss.”

“Well, maybe we can try that sometime, doll.” She grins wider, wiggling her fingers at him as she walks away, a skip in her step. 

By the time Reid recovered enough to respond, she had disappeared, leaving him mildly flustered and very, very confused. With his brows knit together he looked to Hotchner and Morgan as they walk out of the Captains Office. His face must have asked the question on his lips, because Morgan pipes up with an explanation.  
“Cassie is going to be joining the BAU for an indeterminate amount of time. She starts tomorrow.” The impressed look on his face only serve to confuse Reid even more. “I think it’ll be interesting to have her on the team. She seems full of surprises.”

“Uh, yeah. I guess?” Reid still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened in that Office, but he was sure he’d find out tomorrow.

-

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet the newest member of the BAU, Cassie Conway. Make her feel welcome.” Hotchner’s introduction was brief, “Make your introductions and then meet me in the conference room, we have a case.” 

After some excited chatter, everyone started to introduce themselves to Cassie. Penelope Garcia was bubbly and bright, like a more energetic version of Cassie, her bright blonde pigtails dancing excitedly behind her. Jennifer Jareau, JJ her friends call her, was sweet, smart and seemed a bit like the mum of the team. Derek Morgan she had met yesterday, but today Cassie noticed his flirty personality. Emily Prentiss was polite and seemed like a very driven individual. Jason Gideon came across as a strong mentor figure, the type of person that would do his best to see a good outcome on a case. 

While everyone was welcoming her, Cassie noticed that Reid was doing all he could to not look at her, his arms crossed in front of him. He quickly introduced himself before rushing off to the conference room. The others watched him with quizzical looks, Cassie only shrugged in return as they all made their way to the conference room. It was time to start the case that Cassie had been recruited for.


	2. Cassie Conway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chameleon meets the team just in time to go catch a serial killer. Morgan can't wait to see how she is in the field. Reid can't help by try and figure her out.

The briefing was quick and to the point, Hotchner informing the team that they would be developing the profile on the jet. The unsub had killed a total of five women in Portland, OR so far. Currently, local police hadn’t been able to identify a connection between the victims. The deaths start two months ago, with two weeks between kills to begin with, the time had shortened to one week between the last two. 

As everyone got comfortable on the jet, Hotchner got the team to start building a profile. Cassie sat at the back of the jet, waiting for the team to start discussing the unsubs motivations. She read over the case file, studying the way the victims were killed, how they were found, and trying to pin point the connection between then. Her silence was noticed by Reid and he used his time to study her. He was struggling to see how someone who came across as so naive could possibly handle the horrors of a job dealing with serial killers and highly disturbed individuals. From what he could tell, Cassie looked more suited to teaching; her clothing style of fun patterned skirts that cut off at the knee paired with plain shirts, an enamel pin secured where a badge would sit, light blonde hair secured in two messy buns at the sides of her head, bright blue eyes and an altogether sunny disposition. Despite everything that her looks told him, she barely even flinched as she looked over the crime scene photos. The dots didn’t connect in his mind, so he resolved to figure out who Cassie Conway was, because so far, he and his team knew nothing about her.

“So what do we think of our unsub?” Hotchner pulls Reid out of his concentration, opening up a discussion. It was Emily who started.

“The sexual component of these murders tells us that he’s angry at these women, but the dresses show some care in how he sees them. The clothing plays into his fantasy. He makes them watch him while he rapes them judging by the positioning of the hand marks on the victims necks and waists.” Her voice never broke showing how long she’d been working around blood and gore. “The handprints would also suggest strangulation, but none of these women were asphyxiated.”

“All of which suggests a need for control. Look at the dresses the victims are wearing,” Morgan points out, “they aren’t seductive, they even resemble nightgowns. The unsub takes the time to put these dresses on his victims and then sprays paint over them. It almost looks like he tainting them.” His hands were clasped together under his chin as he leant over the table, searching his brain for possible theories.

“Red-orange is said to symbolise a number of feelings like desire, sexual passion, aggression and domination. The fact that our unsub is ‘tainting’ the white dresses with that specific colour could be telling us that he sees these women as tainted, that they either deserved or wanted what happened to them.” Reid rattled of his thoughts, sounding like he had just read them from a book. Everyone was used to the way he spoke, except Cassie. His eyes found her still sitting in her seat, studying the pictures and victim profiles. 

As everyone continued to discuss the case, Cassie’s eyes never left the file, hyper fixated. Her eyes darted across the pages in front of her, only pausing every so often to write notes in a journal next to her. By the time she thought to look up, the whole team was looking at her expectantly, waiting to see what she wanted to add to the discussion. Half of them looked at least a little worried, unsure if her sunny disposition would handle the atrocities laid out in front of her. Hotchner was his usual stoic self, but Morgan and Reid looked outwardly curious. 

“I agree with everything you’ve just said, but…” she paused slightly, letting out an inaudible sigh before continuing in her lilting tone,” the way the unsub dresses his victims tells me that he sees them as innocent, pure. But the paint shows that he’s angry, probably because they didn’t satisfy his fantasy. They weren’t the pure and innocent women he decided they were. Judging by the way the blood stains spread, the unsub painted his victims before he raped them. His actions were justified in his mind.”

The team all looked surprised, wondering how she had noticed the difference in the blood stains in and around the paint. Reid had started looking over the photos again, trying to find any subtle differences in the paint to no avail. 

“Also, I think it’s worthwhile to point out that I don’t think these victims are as random as they seem. Would Garcia be able to check each victims dating profiles? See who the victims connected with in the weeks leading up to their deaths.” Cassie’s brows bunch together as she looked at the victims profiles again. There were dots she couldn’t quite connect yet. “I believe there’s a high chance these women have been on dates with, how do I say this…” she chewed her bottom lip, trying to find the right words, “men who are aesthetically pleasing. They look good, but chances are their personalities don’t match. I’d be looking for anyone they talked to on the day they died. Those men were probably the last to see these women before they were taken.”

“You think this has something to do with the unsubs stressor?” Hotchner had been quiet until now, waiting until his team had built up a satisfactory profile.

“I’d bet money on it, and I’m not one to lose a bet. My theory is that our unsub is in his late 20’s or early 30’s, socially awkward and has difficulty making connections. Definitely doesn’t have much luck with the ladies and probably interprets them being nice as flirting.” Cassie nibbled on her bottom lip again, an action Reid was beginning to think was an unconscious habit when she was deep in thought.

“Sounds like our unsub wouldn’t stand out in a crowd.” Morgan adds with a satisfied look. He was looking forward to seeing Cassie in the field.

“Most likely has an average build. Definitely white.” Cassie confirms Morgans statement. Somehow, despite the dark nature of the discussion, the cheerful lilt in her voice never faltered.

The more Reid thought about it, the more Cassie seemed to fit the unsubs victimology. From what he could tell so far, Cassie was sweet and her body language gave off the impression that she was kind and endearing, deciding that the comment from yesterday was an anomaly . If anything, she kind of reminded him of some of his primary school teachers. 

“If you think about it, Agent Conway fits the unsubs victimology.” The words left his lips before he could stop them. There was no taking them back so he continued. “She would be a good lure if the need arises.” 

He tried keeps his eyes trained on Cassie instead of facing the looks of shock and horror on the teams faces. A light pink colour spear over his cheeks as he twirled his pen between his thumb and index finger. Since he was looking directly at her, he noticed that Cassie seemed entirely unfazed by his statement.

“He’s not wrong you know.” Cassie’s agreement did nothing to lessen everyone’s shock, but Reid’s curiosity was killing him at this point. He couldn’t fit her personality to her reactions, sure there was something he was missing. “Give me a second.”

Cassie turned to rummage through her bag, pulling out a creased document envelope. Reid, Hotchner and Morgan recognised it from yesterday, knowing that its contents were the reason they had ventured to New Jersey yesterday and why Cassie had joined the team. 

Cassie had everyone’s attention as she starts reading one of the pages she pulled from the envelope. Even Hotchner had given her his full attention, he didn’t like that he had no idea what was in that file. Reid couldn’t help glancing at the other pages that she’d left on the seat behind her. While they were half obscured by her body, he could make out most of them, noting that there were pictures mixed in with the papers. All of it did nothing to soothe his interest, if anything it had just made it worse. 

“So, I’ll skip the preamble, but here’s what you should know,” she cleared her throat, her eyes boring holes into Reid as she notices what he’s looking at. He quickly looks away, his eyes moving around the cabin, “we request your assistance in apprehending a target, you can match the victimology of the women killed and therefore would make an excellent addition to the team at the Behavioural Analysis Unit and an excellent decoy should the need arise. Of course, your profiling and combat skills will be a valuable addition to the team also. Should you refuse blah, blah, blah your bosses are mean.”

Cassie ended the sentence with a dejected sigh, keeping an eye on Reid in her peripheral vision. His brows had knitted together as she read the letter, his mind working hard to connect the dots. Reid was too interested, too soon and Cassie wasn’t comfortable with him poking around in her business. 

“You were hired to be bait, that is messed up, doll.” Morgan shakes his head at the realisation, a humourless laugh escaping his lips. The rest of the team looked equally concerned, unaware of the circumstances of Cassie’s employment. “You said something about combat training though, was it just basic combat?”

“Much more than basic. Did a few years in the armed forces, so I can take care of myself, Agent Morgan.” She shrugged nonchalantly, the admission only adding to the mess in Reid’s mind. She turned to pack the files back into the envelope with a pointed look in Reid’s direction.

“No need to call me Agent, sugar.” the smirk somehow making its way into his words.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Morgan.” Stuffing the envelope back in her bag, Cassie makes herself comfortable, laying across two of the seats with her back against the window. “I’ll be here reading a book if anyone needs me before we land.”

With that Cassie put a headset over her ears and pulled a book out of her bag. Reid was only half surprised to see that she had a custom made, blank, dust jacket covering the book. Of course she had a cover for her book. Swimming in his thoughts, Reid thought about what he had seen on the documents before Cassie caught him looking. There were a few candid shots of Cassie, but she had looked like a different person in each of them, some aggressive, some where she looked somewhat depressed and some that looked they were taken years ago. He’d also seen a list of known criminals that had all been caught in the past five years, details of their arrest lacking in specificity. Once they got back to Quantico, Reid might have to get Garcia to look some of these men and women up. What intrigued him the most though, was the two army personnel files that had been underneath it all; a picture of a man and a woman.

After building the profile, Cassie didn’t interact much with the team. If they had to guess, she was probably preparing herself for any scenario where she had to be bait for a serial killer. Morgan challenged Reid to a few games of blackjack, losing every time and everyone else went about their business until the plane landed in Portland, Oregon.


	3. First Case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's A LOT of exposition so far, but I'm trying to build things up. There is definitely going to be some flashbacks along the way that will explore "Cassie's" background a bit more. 
> 
> I've read so many Reid fics lately I'm trying to make sure he's in character, keeping in mind that this is little baby Reid from season 2. Before Tobias.
> 
> I sincerely appreciate any feedback you have <3

Before the team left the jet, Hotchner had given each of them an assignment. He, Gideon and JJ were to go to the local police precinct, Morgan and Prentiss were going to the fourth crime scene to see what they could find, and Reid and Cassie were to go to the most recent crime scene. Like a practiced manoeuvre, two out of three black SUV’s drove off the tarmac and towards their respective destinations. Cassie climbs into the drivers seat, swinging her go bag into the back seat behind her before turning to look at Reid expectantly. After placing his bag gently into the boot of the car, he places himself in the passenger seat. With a small smile pulling at her lips, Cassie pushes a pair of large, flowery sunglasses up her nose before putting the car in gear and driving off to the crime scene. 

In the silence, Reid studies Cassie’s profile while the city passes behind her. She looked to be around his age, but the small smiles and the way she held herself gave him the impression that she held some secret wisdom. He guessed her age around 25 or 26, something he might have to ask her about at some point. On her nose and across her cheekbones was a light dusting of freckles, barely noticeable against her evenly tanned skin tone. Other than the freckles, there was barely a blemish marring her skin. However, just below her right ear, Reid noticed the thin white line of a scar leading from her earlobe to well under her jawline. The discolouration stood out on her skin, but looked out of place. It didn’t match what Reid knew about Cassie so far either. She looked like she’d been plucked from a schoolroom, not from somewhere that justified the thin white line. His brows knitted together and his tongue darted out to wet hips lips as he tucked his discovery away with everything else he’d been unable to make sense of so far. There was a lot that didn’t add up about Cassie Conway and Reid was about to ask about her scar before she turned to tell him they’d arrived at their destination. Her expression was open for the world to see. She wasn’t guarded or suspicious the way the rest of the team was, having dealt with the worst kinds of people for so long. Reid struggled not to describe her as excited and enthusiastic, the job hadn’t yet snuffed out that light.

“How do you do that?” The question surprised even him, and Reid watched as confusion seeped into Cassie’s sunny smile. “How are you so happy and carefree? You’ve seen the crime scene photos, they didn’t seem to affect you all that much and you look…too cheery for this.” by the time Reid had finished his sentence, all confusion had left Cassie’s features.

“Don’t get me wrong Dr. Reid, those photos are burnt into my mind and I’ll probably see them every time I close my eyes for a while yet,” Her face softened as she spoke, the lilt fading a little more with every word, “but it does me, and those girls, no favours to get stuck on such things. If I let it roll off me I’m better prepared to prevent it happening to someone else.”

The smile had made its way back onto her face, her eyes lighting up as she spoke about preventing further attacks. The corners of her soft pink lips pulling up. Reid couldn’t fault her reasoning, but his question still remained as to how she let it roll off her.

“Even if it means I have to be bait, doll face.” Despite the seriousness of her words, a small laugh escaped her as slid out of the car. It was almost comical how small she looked compared to the car, standing at roughly 5’1”. 

Reid blinked a few times, trying to push away his growing confusion. Cassie was far too cheery for him to understand. A tap at the window snapped Reid out of his head. Cassie smiled at him, the skin creasing around her eyes. Reminding himself to focus on the case and not the mystery that was Cassie, Reid stepped out of the car and followed Cassie into the building. 

The crime scene was still fresh. The last victim had been found only two days ago by a friend of the victim. They had been questioned of course, their alibi checking out. They’d mentioned that the victim, Louise, had gone on a date the night she was killed. Local police had brought in and questioned the date but found that he wasn’t the culprit, his roomates vouching for his whereabouts well before time of death. 

So here they were, taking another look at the crime scene. Reid ventured into the living room as Cassie made her way over to the bedroom. Taking a reassuring breath, Cassie opened the door and slipped through the threshold, the smell of iron and paint filling her lungs. The time she had spent in the army had helped to desensitise her to most gore and nightmarish scenes, but she found that she wasn’t entirely prepared for what awaited her inside the room.

Blood had soaked through the sheets and into the mattress, a quick look under the frame showed that it had seeped through to drip on the floor. Remnants of the paint had stained the sheets as well. Evidence markers were scattered around the room, indicating each piece as it was catalogued. Otherwise, the room looked normal, lived in. Disgust and rage flooded Cassie’s system, blood roaring in her ears. On the outside though, not a single crack threatened to give way to the roiling emotions hidden underneath. The FBI had wanted a specific type of person and she wasn’t about to renege on her side of the deal. She just couldn’t wait until she was face-to-face with the mean who had tortured these women.

As she stood there taking it all in, she hadn’t noticed Reid stop next to her, concern evident in his features for only a moment before cooling his face into a neutral expression.

“The average adult female has approximately 1.5 gallons of blood,” the cold hard facts and matter of fact tone in Reid’s voice helped Cassie put a lid on the black rage boiling in her veins, “it looks like the unsub bled them dry when he was done with them.”

Cassie turned to him, agreeing with his analysis with a practiced smile making a home on her face. Reid ignored the fake smile as he surveyed the room, his gaze analytical and calculating. Cassie went to inspect Louise’s wardrobe, getting a sense of the type of clothing she and the other victims had worn. It wasn’t long before they both agreed they had gotten the information they needed from the apartment.

The drive to the the police precinct was quiet as they each processed their findings and conclusions. Reid focused on piecing together the information swirling around in his head while Cassie drove, cataloguing her wardrobe and resigning herself to the fact she would need to do some shopping. They didn’t need to speak, so the silence was comfortable, the calm before the storm they knew the coming days would hold.

The North Precinct of the Portland Police Bureau had set the team up in a spacious conference room. A whiteboard and cork board had been wheeled into the room for the team to make use of. As everyone shared what new insights they had gained during their trips, more and more information went up on the two boards, the picture of each crime slowly coming together. While Gideon had been looking over recent case files, he’d realised that the unsubs first victim was an anomaly. She hadn’t been dressed up or painted, but the marks and the treatment of them suggested that it was the same perpetrator. It was at this point that Hotchner decided to send everyone to the hotel for a night of rest before the case really kicked off. 

Everyone draw straws to determine who slept in which room, they had only been able to book three double rooms and one single. Prentiss and JJ would be sharing one room, Gideon on his own, and Morgan and Hotchner in another room. Which left Cassie and Reid in the last room. The arrangement didn’t bother Cassie at all, but she could tell that Reid was feeling at least a little bit awkward about the whole situation. It didn’t take a profiler to notice the fists wrapped around the strap of his messenger bag and the prominent crease between his eyebrows. Whit a small chuckle, Cassie opened the door, calling out to Reid to follow before he gets locked out. 

“Relax Dr. Reid, we have seperate beds and I don’t bite,” Cassie smiled sweetly at him, placing her go bag on the bed furthest from the door, “much.” 

She laughed at the panic on Reid’s face, his gaze trying to find something, anything to look at but her. By now it was close to 9:00 PM, and Cassie realised she hadn’t eaten all day. A realisation that was promptly followed by a loud growl from her stomach. She glanced over at Reid sheepishly as she reached for the hotel menu. 

“You want anything, doll?” Cassie held the landline between her ear and should as her fingers hovered over the numbers, waiting for his response. 

“A-apple pie if they have any, thank you.” He mumbles, picking at his nail beds. He had put his messenger bag on one of the bedside tables, his go bag on the floor next to it. As Cassie watched him pick at his nail beds, she wracked her brain for the specific statistic she remembered reading once. A triumphant grin making it’s way across her face as she found it.

“About 20% of all adults suffer from onychophagia.” The genuine surprise on Reid’s face only served to widen the grin as Cassie continued. “Apparently the habit dates all the way back to a Greek philosopher, Cleanthes, who was said to be addicted to biting his nails.”

“You knew that? Why?” Reid’s voice gave away his astonishment, not used to someone else being a useless information dump. Cassie’s only response was to laugh at Reid’s shock. She fell back, desperately trying to catch her breathe and regain her composure. She had to cover her face with a pillow before managing to calm herself and regulate her breathing enough to order food. Reid however, was mildly embarrassed and no less curious than he had been at the start of the day.

After a few minutes, Cassie had decided she was calm enough to order food. She avoided looking at Reid, knowing that his face would only set her off again as she continued to focus on her breathing, small laughs escaping on her breath as she did so. A very quick chat on the phone had food well and truly on its way. An apple pie with ice cream for Reid and a beef and bacon burger with fries for Cassie. She had ordered a small bottle of wine to complement the meal, knowing that it wasn’t coming out of her pocket. 

Still focusing on her breathing, Cassie glanced over at Reid, a soft smile resting on her lips. At least now she was confident she wasn’t going to bust out laughing again. This time, she really looked at him. Sure the guy was cute, kind of a dork but in a way that was endearing, and she definitely thought it would be fun to mess with him, but she also knew he was just another man. She’d come to expect very little of men. 

“I have a plethora of random and utterly useless knowledge taking up prime real estate in my head.” She tilted her head as she spoke, a ghost of her laugh layering her lilting tone. “What about you sugar plum, what’s your story? You look a little young to be so far under the FBI’s thumb.”

“I joined the BAU when I was 22, but by then I already have two bachelor degrees in Psychology and Sociology, as well as three PhD’s in Mathematics, Chemistry and Engineering. Accepting their offer just seemed like a reasonable graduation and use of my knowledge and skills. Anyway, I enjoy being able to help people.” He was genuine, the rough honey tone of his voice giving away no sense of falsehood or ulterior motive. The crease between his eyebrows had returned, this time accompanied by a frown as he looked at Cassie. She quirked an eyebrow at him, almost as if daring him to say what was on his mind. A series of knocks at the door pulled both their attention away.

Cassie jumped up with gala, skipping to the door before greeting the man with a bright thank you and wheeling the cart into the room, making sure to attach the chain to the door first. Reid was, yet again, floored by the unending cheerfulness that radiated from the woman across from him. She had opted to sit at the table, fully aware of how messy the burger she’d ordered would be.


	4. Out of Character

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the very small description of a nightmare at the beginning of the chapter could be a potential trigger. While it doesn't explicitly describe anything in detail, the gist of it is pretty clear. SO, if that is something you would like to avoid, just don't read the part in italics.
> 
> Also, super appreciate everyone who has given kudos and the lovely, wonderful people who have commented. It really brightens my day to see that you are enjoying this.
> 
> Otherwise, I hope you guys enjoy the fruits of my creative high.

_Firm hands around her ankles pull her from sleep. Before she has time to process the pressure, the hands drag her out of the cot. Bracing her head with her arms, she tries to soften the blow as her face hits the floor. Almost immediately more hands grab at her wrists, flipping her on her back and effectively pinning her arms down. She looks at the men, horror clouding her thoughts as she takes in their expressions. Satisfied smirks stretched across their faces as she took in the greedy looks in their eyes. She struggles against her captors, trying desperately to get even on limb free. One of them crouches down near her face, dragging a knife under her jaw; deep enough to leave a scar, cause searing pain, but not enough to kill. He tells her to shut up, it’ll be easier for her that way._

_They were her friends, the men she had bonded with over the past three years. She had trusted them with her life, her with theirs. Now they were abusing that trust, abusing her. She thought she might have screamed at them to stop, to let her go; that’s why one of them slapped her hard enough that she saw stars, her cheekbone cracking on impact. It didn’t take long to realise fighting was useless. Sure, she’d had some of the best training in the world, but so had they. Against the whole squad, she was completely useless, a joke. That was when the tears started._

_They all had their turn, of course, each of them leaving a few scars on her body. She guessed they thought it was hilarious that they were using her knife to slice her up. Not all of the scars they caused were on her skin, some of them went much, much deeper. Ironic that they had all joked about her having thick skin on so many occasions. How long had they been planning this? They’d waited until they were on mission, tracking an enemy cell through a stretch of abandoned towns. She was supposed to be able to pick up on these things, the subtle shifts in someones attitude that gave away their motives. She’d gotten to close to them, stopped tracking their actions; they were her squad, her brothers, her family. Well, she’d thought they were, she was wrong, so terribly, horribly wrong._

Reid stirred in his sleep, barely conscious as he rolled on the bed. As he slowly came to, he registered a peculiar sound at the edge of his awareness, becoming more alert as he focused on it. Laying there listening, he could hear Cassie’s rapid breathing to his left. He tried to ignore it, giver her as much privacy as possible. Reid didn’t think she would want him knowing this much about her yet. Even when he could hear her tossing and turning, the blanket falling to the floor, he tried to thin about something else, anything else. To say he felt awkward was an understatement, there was something intimate about hearing her nightmares. Reid eventually gave up any hope of getting more sleep.

He had his nose in a book, his bedside lamp illuminating the pages when he heard the first whimper. Turning to look at her, Reid noted the too fast rise and fall of her shoulders. Since she had kicked off her blanket, Reid could see the scars marring her back where her shirt had ridden up. Her whole body was shaking and covered in sweat. Reid contemplated pulling the blanket over her shaking body, but remembered that certain types of pressure could make nightmares worse. From the look of her, she didn’t need to get any worse. Sighing, he tried to focus on reading again.

Then came the screams. It had startled him enough that he jumped from the bed and rushed to her bedside before he knew what was happening. For a moment he just stood there, monitoring Cassie as she hyperventilated in her sleep. Sometimes he would mumble something he couldn’t hear or understand, sometimes she would just tremble and clutch at the sheet underneath her. She had rolled onto her back at some point and Reid watched the rise and fall of her chest, counting the breaths.

Ten in five seconds.

Reid tried to call anything to mind about dealing with nightmares and panic attacks but before he could form a single thought, Cassie stoped breathing altogether and the shaking turned into tremors.

Without a moments thought, Reid grabbed one of Cassie’s wrists, checking her pulse before placing his hands on either side of her face. He could see the way fear had consumed her expression and his heart broke just a little.

“Agent Conway? You need to wake up. You’re having a nightmare, it isn’t real.” Despite the tension he was feeling, Reid managed to keep his voice calm, as soothing as he could manage. Cassie wasn’t waking up and still wasn’t breathing. “Cassie!”

Her eyes snapped open, the nightmare fresh in her mind, and all she could feel were hands at the sides of her face. Before Reid could react, Cassie had rolled him onto the bed, pinning his arms under her knees. Shock quickly turned to fear as Reid felt the cold metal of a blade at his throat. Swallowing carefully, he looked into her eyes. What he saw not the kind smiling eyes of an approachable young woman. No, what he saw in Cassie’s eyes was pure unadulterated rage. Mixed with the rapid breathing, he couldn’t help but compare her to a wild animal in his mind. The blue of her irises had been completely taken over by her pupils. Cassie hadn’t moved an inch, but he could still feel her trembling as she sat atop him. It was as if the woman he had been so intrigued by yesterday was gone, replaced by a panicked and terrified child. His tongue darted out to wet his lips before her spoke, considering his words very carefully.

“Cassie, it’s me, Dr. Spencer Reid,” he spoke slowly, keeping his voice as low and calming as possible, taking care not to move too much against the blade, “I mean you no harm. I would ask you to let me go now, I am not very comfortable right now.”

She didn’t move, didn’t break eye contact. She just sat there, her breathing slowly returning to a normal pace.

And suddenly she was gone, the knife abandoned next to Reid’s head. He laid there, processing the danger he’d just been in, the blood rushing in his ears. The sound of the door closing pulled him back to reality. Cassie her left without a word, her phone on her bedside table and her shoes still sitting next to her bag. Reid sat there, debating whether her should tell Gideon or Hotchner about the incident.

-

Cassie tried to calm her erratic breathing as she leant against the rough brick wall. Once she had realised where she was, what she was doing, all she could think about was running. She ran until she physically couldn’t anymore, until her lungs were burning, screaming at her to stop, until her feet were bleeding. Shoes, she thought numbly, she had forgotten shoes in her rush to get away from Reid and his honey coated words. He wasn’t supposed to see that, wasn’t allowed to know about those parts of her.

Cassie Conway didn’t have nightmares or panic attacks. Cassie Conway didn’t suffer from PTSD. She was a perky, cheerful, people person from Boston who was just really good at reading people. So she repeated the words in her head. But for each time she recited the mantra, a cynical voice in the depths of her mind kept butting in. Trying to remind her who had the nightmares. The dead woman who suffered from PTSD, who had seen and experienced some truly messed up things. Pushing the thoughts away wasn’t easy, but she did it. With a deep breath, Cassie schooled her features into the soft, sweet smile everyone had begun to expect from her. The warm smiling eyes wouldn’t come back instantly, but she had time.

A shower. Cassie needed a shower. Dealing with Reid could wait until later, much later. Shower, eat, catch a killer. If she was lucky, Reid would forget about what happened in favour of focusing on the case. As long as she acted ‘normal’ everything would be fine. Bracing herself for the pain in her feet, Cassie made her way back to the hotel, glad that she had circled back while she was still running.

Upon realising that she didn’t have her room key with her, Cassie begrudgingly knocked on the door. She had hoped to avoid Reid, or at least being a lone with Reid, for as long as was possible. She did her best to look cheerful and apologetic as Reid opened the door cautiously. Not that she could blame him after what had happened. Cassie had begun to notice that sometimes, like now, Reid’s emotions were incredibly easy to read. As his eyes found Cassie, his expression danced from surprise, to confusion, and to concern in a matter of seconds as he stepped back to let Cassie inside.

Walking past him, Cassie was extra mindful that she didn’t touch him. She was also doing her best to make sure Reid didn’t notice the pain she was in. As quickly as possible in her state, Cassie grabbed her go bag before practically running to the bathroom. Before she could close the door, however, Reid had managed to stick his foot through the door frame. A determined look made its way onto his face as he wet his lip and cleared his throat.

“Agent Conway,” his voice sounded confident, or as confident as Reid could possibly sound at least, “We need to talk about what happened this morning. Y-you need to talk to someone about it. If you- if you’re having nightmares you should talk to- to someone.”

His confidence faltered as Cassie remained quiet and impassive. As Reid spoke, her expression had gone blank. In fact, her face was so blank that Reid couldn’t make out a single micro-expression as he searched Cassie’s face.

“Or- or not…”

A glance at Reid’s foot had him moving away from Cassie and the bathroom, an apologetic look on his face. His mind was racing, trying to piece together the mismatched puzzle pieces of information her kept getting from Cassie. The scars, the nightmares, the complete and utter lack of emotion in her face. Nothing was making sense anymore. Heaving a sigh, Reid left the hotel room in favour of getting a coffee and getting back to work. Maybe catching a serial killer would help him sort out the mess that his brain was right now.


	5. Catching a Killer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassie avoids Reid as much as possible while they wrap up their latest case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is only a tiny bit longer than the others. I feel like its a hot mess but I'll leave that up to you.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who is enjoying this story, I hope I don't disappoint.
> 
> Sorry for the cliffhanger too

“JJ, have we gotten any information from the profile we released?” Hotchner had called everyone into the conference room at lunchtime. JJ had held a press conference to present the completed profile to the public and everyone was waiting for any new leads. Cassie had been the last to arrive, not interested in being around everyone for longer than necessary. She had successfully avoided Reid since this morning and was hoping to keep it that way.

“We’ve got people manning the tip line 24/7, Hotch,” JJ tucked her hair behind her ear as she spoke, reading through some papers in her hand, “There has been a few people who claimed to have seen the victims out at the same bar. I’ve asked Garcia to follow up on that.”

“Are we thinking that this could be our unsubs hunting ground?” Morgan sat up in his chair, the new information gripping his full attention.

“I would almost guarantee it, Morgan,” Gideon turned from the evidence board to address the group. Cassie realised that there was something about him that commanded people to listen when he spoke, at least if their short interactions were anything to go by. “Assuming the profile is accurate,” his gaze landed on Cassie, making it painfully obvious that she hadn’t proved her mettle yet, “the unsub will have habits that he won’t break easily, if his social circle is a limited as we believe then our best course of action is to investigate the bar. Perhaps it will be a good opportunity for Agent Conway to put her skills to the test.”

Gideon shrugged noncommittally, tilting his head to the side as he drew his bottom lip up, feeling out the groups reaction. Cassie could feel Reid’s eyes on her, boring into her. She thought he might be trying to assess her mental state after everything, but she knew Reid would find nothing out of the ordinary in her expression or body language. She could see most of the team looking at least a little bit uncomfortable with the thought of putting the newbie in harms way. Doing her best to avoid rolling her eyes, Cassie cleared her throat, pulling everyone from their thoughts.

“I’ve no problem with being the bait, I thought I’d made that clear on the jet?” Her words broke the tension in the room, the soothing lilt of her voice doing exactly what it needed to; make people comfortable. “But I will need a date if this is going to work.”

At this, everyone turned to either Morgan or Reid, them being to most appropriate for the task. Morgan leant back in his chair with a flirty look at Cassie, Reid looked like he was fighting between concern and shock. His brows had pulled together as he drew his index finger down the bridge of his nose, his tongue just barely poking out from between his lips. Cassie took this time to think about which of the two men would be a better fit for the assignment. They were both attractive in their own right; Morgan looking like he should be an underwear model and not an FBI agent, and Reid looking like the professor that everyone wanted to bone. At the very least, Cassie thought to herself, she wasn’t the type of person to get attached to people, let alone take them to bed.

She had to think about the unsub though, who was more likely to help draw the his attention to her; Morgan or Reid? Without thinking, she drew her hand to her mouth, nibbling at her nail beds. So deep in thought, she failed to notice when Garcia called to fill them in on the bar, how all of the victims had gone there for their final dates. The messages the women exchanged with their dates put them all at the same bar, apparently a hotspot for first dates in the area. She ended the call with her usual cheery platitudes.

Reid tired to ignore Cassie, push what happened this morning to the back of his mind, he could confront her about her behaviour after the case was closed. He had decided not to tell the rest of the team until he could talk to her first. Hell, part of him thought that if he went with her to bait the unsub, he could ask her about it then. Before long he realised he’d been staring at her again, but this time she hadn’t noticed. As everyone piled out of the room, Prentiss and Hotchner heading to the bar to question the owner and staff, check if they could identify the unsub from the profile, they hung around the precinct. Cassie stayed seated in the conference room, completely unaware of what was going on around her.

An hour later, Reid found Morgan, both of them sharing a look across the bullpen. They’d both noticed that Cassie hadn’t left the conference room yet. As they stood at the door, they realised that she hadn’t even moved in the hour she’d been there. Concerned, both men moved to her side, meeting each others gaze before turning to Cassie again. Even as they moved chairs to sit next to her, she didn’t stir.

“Conway? You in there?” Morgan’s words were laced with barely contained worry as he placed a hand on her shoulder. Her body tensed at the contact and Reid checked for any hint of the panic he’d seen on her face that morning.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, just thinking.” mumbling around her finger, she slowly became aware of who was around her, or rather who wasn’t. Reid noticed the red stain on her lips and the blood welling around her nail beds she rested her hand on the table. He was about to speak up, but Cassie bolting out of her chair made him hold his tongue. She practically ran to the whiteboard, her hands shaking as her mind raced.

In a matter of minutes she had filled half of the whiteboard with notes. Morgan was relieved to see her handwriting was neat and legible, some letters ran on from others and made the words look like flowing loops; a mix between printed letters and cursive that was easy to read. Cassie didn’t speak while she wrote but Morgan and Reid didn’t miss the equations she’d snuck in at the bottom of the board. Morgans name was written in her elegant script with a big circle around it. When Cassie turned to the questioning looks of both men, she let out a long breath. She had forgotten to breathe again and was regretting that decision.

“It has to be Agent Morgan.” Her usual lilt was back with a small smile and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Reid wouldn’t get the unsubs attention, not the kind we want anyway.”

“That’s not much of an explanation, Cassie.” Morgan bit back a laugh as he watched Cassie’s face fall. She resembled a lost child as she searched for the words to explain her thinking. Reid stayed quiet, studying the words and equation she had written on the board.

“The unsub we’re looking for targets women who look innocent and sweet who go on dates with, well, douchebags.” Her eyes jumped between Morgan and Reid as she explained, gauging their reactions. Reid didn’t fail to notice the way she seemed to vibrate with nerves, like she couldn’t find a way to get it all out. “Someone like Reid, no offence,” Reid shrugged in response, “isn’t going to encite the rage we’re looking for. If anything the unsub would be happy to see the nerd with the girl.” No one missed the wince as she dubbed Reid a nerd, obviously worried about insulting him.

“Morgan, on the other hand, is going to draw the unsub out. You look like the type to lose someones number very quickly.” He opened his mouth to protest. “Look like, I have nothing to say you really are, but you’re attractive enough that you wouldn’t have any trouble getting ladies. My point is, Morgan is the only person on the team that will get the right reaction. We need to leave the restaurant together too. Find an empty apartment somewhere to stage as a home. It has to look like we, well, you know.”

Morgan cocked an eyebrow, surprised that Cassie seemed so uncomfortable talking about sex. Reid nodded to himself mostly, going over all of the scenarios in his head. Neither of them could find a fault in her logic, unintentional insults aside. Cassie was proving to be an adept profiler.

“Guess we should get everything in order then, doll face.” The flirty tone and dazzling smile seemed to be what brought Cassie back down to Earth, the nerves finally leaving her body. “We had better go let everyone know what’s going on.”

-

Morgan sat across from Cassie in the booth. Morgan was dressed in his usual t-shirt and jeans while Cassie had dressed in a white, flowery sundress. They had gotten food early, both ordering a burger and fries. Cassie nursed a glass of vodka and lemonade, passing it off as just lemonade to Morgan, who had a glass of water. So far the night had been wildly uneventful and most of the small talk topics had been exhausted between the two agents. Cassie finished the rest of her drink, getting up for a refill. When she got back she sat next to Morgan instead of across from him. He shook his head and let himself laugh at the action

“Since we’ve run out of small talk, time for the real questions, doll face.” He had a mischievous glint in his eyes as Cassie turned to look at hime, one eyebrow raised. “I haven’t seen you carry a weapon, but Hotch told me that you passed your firearm certification.”

“I don’t hear a question there Morgan.”

“Please, call me Derek. My question is why you don’t carry a gun.” He leant against the wall beside him, facing Cassie, his body language openly flirty.

“Guns are such barbaric weapons. Loud too.” Cassie caught her straw in the corner of her mouth, taking a long sip of her drink and savouring the familiar burn. “I really don’t see the point of them. They give away your position, mess up your ears and leave evidence that alternative like knives or arrows typically don’t.” She counted her reasons out on her hand as she spoke, a small crease appearing between her brows. Eventually she shrugged, “It’s just personal preference really.”

“I suppose that’s a fair answer. You must have experience with knives and bows then?” His interest was genuine as he sat up and leant towards her. He was close, but not too close as to suggest impropriety.

“Derek Morgan, are you trying to interrogate me?” Cassie laughed, unable to fake annoyance. Morgan had the gall to hold his hand to his heart, his face dropping into fake shock.

“I would never.” He defended, a playful smile on his face. Somehow Morgan had helped her relax. She’d had a bad history with men, so it was nice to engage in such playful banter. Cassie didn’t even tense up as Morgan leant forward, one arm coming up to wrap around her shoulders and his breath tickling her neck. “Not to alarm you, doll, but I think we may have found our unsub. Time to finish the show.”

Cassie nodded and skulled the rest of her drink, only mildly grateful that she hadn’t ordered a double. They manoeuvred out of the booth, Morgan draping his arm around her shoulders as they made their exit. As the two made their way away from the bar, they whispered to each other, going over the plan, but to anyone walking by they would have looked like two people who had a good night together.

Morgan would take Cassie to her ‘apartment’, stay for about 20 minutes and then leave. He and the rest of the team, alongside the cases lead detective, would lay in wait until Cassie gave the signal to come up. Once Morgan left, Cassie sat on the bed and waited. She had opted to drop off her go bag before the ‘date’ so she could change into something more appropriate for apprehending a criminal. Hotch wouldn’t let her take any weapons to the bar, so the bag was also her only chance at getting her knife.

After changing into jeans and a tank top, Cassie laid on the mattress and let her mind go blank. While she didn’t entirely hate pretending to be someone else, it was a lot of effort to keep it up 24/7 for three days in a row. Most of the time she only had to keep up the act when she was out and about, but the letter she got from the FBI when she me Morgan and Hotch had stressed the importance of not letting them know her real identity. Regardless, three days as Cassie Conway was getting on her nerves. Being so happy and cheerful all the time was annoying to put it simply.

The creak of the front door broke Cassie out of her thoughts. Instead of the sweet smile that she had been wearing the past few days, he face twisted into a near sinister grin. Her prey had arrived and it was time for the Chameleon to come out and play. Standing up, she pulled her knife out of her bag and stood behind the bedroom door. The moment she saw the unsub walk into the room, she crouched down and waited for him to notice her presence.

She watched as he placed his bag on the bed, pulling out the red-orange spray paint, a switchblade and a pale white dress. His breathing was shaky, excited, as if he was already getting worked up just thinking out what had was going to do to Cassie. Her skin crawled at the thought and she fought to stay still. Morgan’s voice cut through her focus, asking if the unsub had shown up. A simple code had been established in case Cassie wasn’t able to talk; two taps for yes, one for no. She tapped twice as the unsub turned around to face her. Cassie figured she had about five minutes before they came through the door.


	6. Goodbye Cassie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the unsub brings something surprising with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. Being a single mum make life super busy around this time of year but that's okay. 
> 
> HOPEFULLY this chapter isn't as trash as I feel it is. And I would love to write longer chapter but I feel like writing more would kill the flow? Like where I stop just feels right?
> 
> Otherwise, I'm super stoked to see that so many people are enjoying (?) or at the very least intrigued by this story. Hope it's what you want it to be. Is it worthwhile to note that I'm Australian? Probably?
> 
> Mild trigger warning for needles and drug use

For a moment all they did was stare at each other, neither one entirely willing to pounce first. Cassie knew better than to make the first move so she kept her knife hidden and her expression neutral while she waited for the man to break their little stalemate. They had about five minutes before the team came bursting in. Once the surprise wore off, the unsub surged forward, switchblade in hand, expecting an easy fight. As he lunged, Cassie dropped her neutral expression in favour on one of wicked glee. This was her favourite part of the job after all. Until the rest of the team arrived, she got to have some fun with the detestable creature in front of her. What could go wrong?

The moment he entered striking distance, Cassie sprung. She wrapped her hand around the arm he held his knife in and twisted it around to his back before pulling it up in a sick imitation of a wing. His screams of pain spread warmth through Cassie, leaving her eager to do more harm with the time she had. Using his shock to her advantage, Cassie slipped in front of him, pulling his stomach flush against her back before crouching down before pushing up with he legs to throw him over her shoulder and onto the ground. Wasting no time, she quickly pinned him down, his arms stuck by his side in the same position she’d pinned Reid that morning. Cassie let the feral grin take over her face as she started to ‘get to know’ the man beneath her.

“You should at least by a girl a drink, mate.” She gritted out. Gone was the soothing lilt and soft accent, her normal Australian accent making its appearance.

“Why would I buy you a drink when you’ve got some many others to do it for you, whore. Flashing your saccharine smiles around the place, pretending to be an innocent and virtuous woman. You’re just a filthy whore like the rest of them.”

“Well aren’t you in quite the state there.” Raising her knife to his neck, she flashed him another feral grin. “What’s your name, champ?”

“Why would I tell you…” the knife pressed deeper into his throat, just barely breaking the skin, “Dawson, Mike Dawson.”

“Lovely, what a team player. Now, I hope you don’t think you’re getting out of here without consequence,” try as she might, Cassie couldn’t help the amusement that mixed with her unusually lighthearted words, “see, you’ve killed five women now, and quite frankly, that’s illegal. Obviously you’ve got a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock, but that’s okay. I reckon you’ll have a wonderful time in lock-up.”

Her amusement cost her though, because Mike had upped the ante this time around. Too caught up in her taunting and reading Mike expression, Cassie failed to pay attention to him shifting underneath her. Assuming it was just him trying to get free, Cassie was sorely mistaken as she felt the needle dig into her calf as Mike emptied whatever liquid concoction he’d brought into her bloodstream. Shocked as she was, Cassie had no retort. She couldn’t look or reach back unless she wanted to give him the opportunity to get the upper hand. Not moving though, allowed him all the time in the world to keep stabbing her with the needle. Sure there was nothing left in it, but it was doing a damn good job of tearing up her flesh. By now Mike had also realised that she couldn’t do any real harm to him, else she would have. The FBI had her under their thumb, so she couldn’t do any unnecessary harm to suspects.

Cassie could feel the drugs start to take effect, her shock replaced by a euphoric feeling. She couldn’t feel the pain in her leg anymore, though she was sure Mike had broken off part of the needle in her leg. He continued his assault as the team rushed in, guns raised. Cassie could vaguely hear someone telling her to get up as she felt Mike’s laughter underneath her. Reid moved around to crouch in front of her, gently taking the knife from her hands before placing it away from her and the unsub. As he directed his focus back onto Cassie and the unsub, he noticed Cassie’s pinpoint pupils. Now it was painfully obvious that the syringe wasn’t just a weapon chosen in the heat of the moment, Cassie had been drugged. Standing up, Reid waved Morgan and Prentiss over to him.

“Conway has definitely been drugged, though I don’t know what with. She has pinpoint pupils so I would say it’s likely that it was some kind of opioid. She needs medical attention ASAP.”

To Cassie everything sounded as though she was underwater. Try as she might, she couldn’t understand what anyone was saying. She tried to focus on Reid’s face in front of her but she had to keep blinking to see clearly. Behind him she could make the shape of other people, but she couldn’t get her eyes to focus on them.

“I do believe that I, am high as a bloody kite, Doctor.” despite her best efforts, the words came out slurred. The teams concern was growing with every second. Not only was Cassie blinking rapidly and slurring her speech, but her accent had inexplicably changed.

His brows pulled together, “You’re what?”

“‘M high. As. A. Kite. Mate.” She laughed; big, loud and slurred. Evidently, Cassie was having the time of her life.

Once she had managed to calm herself, she tried to focus on Reid again. Slowly, she raised her arm and moved it towards his face. While she had been aiming for his nose, she ended up poking him square on his bottom lip, dragging it down as her arm dropped. Childish giggles poured out of her as she tried to keep herself upright.

None of this was doing anything to soothe the concern that kept washing through Reid. His mind was stuck on the drastic change they had made in their routine. None of the other victims had been drugged in any capacity. So why had he changed things this time around? He shook his head, that was something to think about later, right now Cassie needed medical help.

“Cassie, we need to get you to the EMT, they can’t get their equipment upstairs, so we have to take you to them. I’m 98% sure you’re experiencing an overdose, so I need you to stay awake, nod if you understand me.”

She didn’t nod. Reid was beginning to think she couldn’t hear a word her was saying, or if she could hear, she couldn’t understand him. He had to keep pulling her hands away from his face as he tried, and failed, to get her to focus and listen. Reid really was doing his best to stay calm, but the frustration that built inside him every time Cassie poked at his face was beginning to bubble over.

He sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose as he continued to watch Cassie. At the very least, he knew to keep her conscious for as long as possible. By now everyone else had left, regrouping downstairs and organising preparing the EMT’s. Cassie’s breathing was shallow as Reid stood up. He helped Cassie up carefully, placing his arm under her shoulders to support her. If her leg was bothering her, she made no comment about it, though Reid quickly realised that was due to whatever drug was coursing through her system. When they got to the door of the apartment, Cassie pitched forward and Reid was just barely able to catch her in time to stop her collapsing.

Morgan reached the fourth floor just in time to see the panicked look on Reid’s face as he caught Cassie. Holding in a laugh at the look on the genius’ face, Morgan offered his help. At the top of the stairs, they both realised that it would be much easier if Morgan carried Cassie down the steps instead of trying to help her walk herself. He picked her up bridal style and started the journey down. However, he didn’t anticipate Cassie fighting him off. Her hits held no force, but her constant twisting and kicking didn’t make the descent easy for him.

“Agent Conway, you need to calm down, I’m only trying to help.” He gritted out, desperately trying to keep his grip on her as they stopped at the first floor landing.

“Perhaps it would be easier if you put her down and let her try to walk herself? She doesn’t strike me a the type that enjoys physical contact.”

Morgan looked at him, a slew of questions bubbling in his throat, but ultimately trusted his judgement. As controlled as possible, Morgan lowered Cassie to the ground close to the wall in case she needed the support.Both he and Reid were there if she decided she wanted their help.

“I don’t know exactly _who_ this Agent Conway sheila is, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me by her name.” She started, attempting to glare at the two men. It had little effect considering she could barely focus on anything. Even in the dimly lit stairwell, everything was excruciatingly bright.

Reid’s curiosity soared again, nothing about Cassie was making sense anymore. Weird accent, nightmares, mysterious scars and now her name wasn’t actually Cassie Conway?

“If your name isn’t Cassie Conway, then what is it?” His head had tilted to the side, his tongue resting on his lips ad he waited for her response.

“Don’t really have one anymore mate,” she shrugged, “the chick died some time ago. Most people just call me by that stupid moniker _Chameleon_.”

Morgan and Reid shared a look, both of them had caught the bitterness in her voice. At the very least, one small piece of the puzzle had been revealed; her name was fake and she was apparently a very well known bounty hunter. Even the BAU had heard of the Chameleon. Maybe he could get Garcia to do some digging once they got back to Quantico. Before he had a chance to start forming a game plan, someone slammed a door open in the stairwell.

Sometimes a single moment is enough to make a bad situation considerably worse. In Cassie’s drugged state, a slamming door was enough to turn the world on its axis. Morgan noticed the change first, but didn’t have the time to react as Cassie panicked and tripped over her feet, tumbling down the stairs.

Morgan and Reid rushed down after her, Prentiss frozen in shock at the doorway. The three Agents were speechless, the tension between them palpable as they waited for Cassie to show any sign of being okay.

“Ow.”

“Conway, are you okay? Can you sit up?”

Prentiss rushed to her side, gently helping her sit upright and checking her for any new injuries. By some miracle, Cassie didn’t break any bones, but she would definitely have her share of bruises come tomorrow.

“Don’t call me that. Conway is exhausting…” her eyes drifted shut as she mumbled the words, her head falling on Prentiss’ hand.

“Someone get a medic in here now!”

The next few minutes felt like they passed in slow motion. Two EMT’s rushed in, and started examining her. They checked her pulse, finding an alarmingly slow rhythm. Her breathing had evened out, but was still too shallow for their liking.

“Has she been given any drugs?”

“Uh, yeah, but we don’t know what kind. It looked like a pretty big syringe too.”

They cursed and shone a light in her pupils. From where he was standing, Reid could see that they were still pinpoint. The EMT’s manoeuvred Cassie onto a stretcher, managing to wake her in the process. Admittedly she was still out of it, but Cassie was able to get a few words out in her stupor.

“No hospitals. Please. No hospitals.”


End file.
